


The Greatest Gift

by Rosage



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 19:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: As the Voice, Tiki receives frequent offerings. It’s not every day that she’s given a pet.





	The Greatest Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andrastes_grace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrastes_grace/gifts).



> This is my fill for the 2018 Femslash Exchange. I hope the recipient enjoys it!
> 
> Thank you to my beta.

Say’ri’s first thought upon Tiki’s return to their summer home is that she must be sick. A blanket is bundled in her arms, and even a human would never have taken one outside in this heat. Only once she rushes to Tiki’s side does Say’ri notice the blanket is not theirs. It shifts as it emits soft mewls.

A head too small for its ears, reddish-orange with blonder stripes, pops out of the folds. Say’ri relieves the kitten of its swaddling to give Tiki free hands. It weighs almost nothing, and she kneels with it out of fear it will fall if she keeps a gentle enough hold. Tiki chats about her time in the village while she runs around preparing their rooms for a kitten.

“Pray, tell me what you plan to name it,” Say’ri says. Tiki taps a finger against her chin in thought while the kitten climbs up Say’ri’s chest.

“Apple,” Tiki says, “after the sort of gifts my ventures outside used to bear.”

The whimsy makes Say’ri smile. “Then Apple the heir to Chon’sin shall be.”

Gone are the days where all Tiki brought back was fruit. The people shower her with offerings, among them the carved dragon that sits on their shelf. Tiki looks upon it fondly, saying it reminds her of an old friend, but she gets a strange look in her eyes when she brings home most souvenirs. For Say’ri’s part, she is only glad that people treat Tiki with respect and kindness. Regardless, a live animal is new, though Say’ri has taken much more bitter things in stride.

At the dish that Tiki brings, the kitten drops to the floor, walking away from Say’ri with its tiny tail in the air. Say’ri’s smile grows wistful. “They are short-lived little creatures. More so than humans.”

The finger that had tapped Tiki’s chin pokes Say’ri’s nose. “Then I shall give the short version of my speech. Do not deprive me of joy, Say’ri.”

Say’ri catches Tiki’s hand. It curls against her cheek with the slightest scrape of claws, a hard edge with no malice. She turns to kiss its soft palm.

“As you wish.”

* * *

One of the dogs at the main palace could have accompanied them to the beach, and joined Say’ri in running through the spray. Tiki doesn’t usually, unless to splash her; she prefers to curl up on warm patches of sand. She would be the one with additional company, should they be able to coax the cat even that close to the ocean.

Tiki chooses to remain inside with Apple. Had Say’ri known, her past self may have gotten Tiki a cat for their campsites. With the war over, and Tiki’s strength well demonstrated during it besides, Say’ri has tried to relax about Tiki’s jaunts to the village. Say’ri can understand them better now that she herself is often cooped up in meetings, unable to accompany Tiki. To her regret, she can no longer dedicate all of her time to being at Tiki’s side, with the mantle of leadership dropped on her—unexpected, unwanted, but by her own hand nonetheless.

It follows her here in the piles of correspondence and documents by her desk. She sits hunched over them well past dusk, her inkwell low and her hand clutching the quill like a sword. In the candlelight, she spots an orange blur. After wiping her hands, she picks up Apple, holding him away from the ink. She can foresee the mess made of her important work, should she not put him out, but he kneads her lap and settles in like he’s found his spot.

“I know a lady who would contest your claim,” Say’ri murmurs. “I pray you prepare your blades before dawn.” He purrs in response. She strokes between his ears with a thumb, thinking of everything and nothing, her mind batting away each thought as if with a cat’s paw.

Tiki makes herself known with a yawn. The loose sleeves of her robe cross her chest as she joins Say’ri. “It’s late, dearest.” She makes to sit in Say’ri’s lap before noticing Apple, who once again becomes a blur as he leaps off.

“I did warn him,” Say’ri says. Tiki takes her throne and wraps her arms around Say’ri’s shoulders, kissing away the last of Say’ri’s desire to work. Say’ri cradles her waist to keep her warmth close. She swears Tiki vibrates against her.

“Come to bed,” Tiki says between kisses, and as always Say’ri follows.

* * *

Apple has his own duties as Chon’sin’s heir. He tries to climb walls to get to spiders that have infiltrated his home. He does not let Say’ri sleep in, or sleep at all some nights. In the mornings, he brings offerings for the day’s luck, bits of material he’s shredded or baubles they’ve given him as toys. Tiki always thanks him and cradles the offerings in her palms like precious gems.

As he grows, he follows Say’ri advice to sharpen his weapons, scratching up everything within reach. “He’s so much like me in my younger days,” Tiki says over a meal, so wistful that Say’ri has to grin.

“Would you say the apple does not fall far from the tree? For that matter, if I examine the Mila Tree, will I find claw marks?”

“Of course not. It wasn’t around back then. The older statues of my mother, on the other hand…”

Say’ri nearly spits out her rice.

Dutiful he might be, but their little prince is spoiled, a fact Say’ri often points out. She nearly repeats it when she finds Tiki curled up in a patch of sun streaming from the window, with Apple in a ball on her back—but a more indulgent idea presents itself. She retrieves her painting materials, something she rarely has time for these days, and wastes a canvas before she lets her brush flow loosely enough to depict a pile of sunbeams.

After studying the way the light hits Tiki’s form, Say’ri can’t focus on anything else as Tiki stretches before padding over to her. Tiki laughs with delight when she sees the subject of Say’ri’s art. “It’s beautiful,” Tiki says.

“Aye, not as much as the real thing.” 

Tiki tucks Say’ri’s hair behind her ear, then keeps going, sliding her hand behind Say’ri’s head to meet her in a kiss. Unable to touch Tiki with her stained hands, Say’ri tilts obligingly at the light pressure on her nape. Apple’s yowls interrupt them.

“Hush,” Say’ri says. “I am appreciating art.”

Though Tiki giggles, Apple is not impressed, as he has again found a spider to arrest.

* * *

When Apple is fully grown, Say’ri forgets herself, and tries to pet him as vigorously as she would her smaller dogs. He tells her what he thinks of that by sliding like water away from her reach. She is constantly reminding herself of his fragility, despite him being a creature who can survive falls from great heights. His fierceness in the face of spiders did not outlast his kitten days; he has since determined that his best tactic for any unknown is to run.

To Tiki’s chagrin, this applies to her dragon form, which makes him look like a kitten again in comparison. On her fanciful days, Say’ri wishes he were willing to curl up on top of Tiki’s winged back, so that she might again have a model of similar scale. It is a trifle, however; the larger issue comes when Tiki flies in, causing Apple to bolt away from the windows. He only shows himself when Tiki’s human form coaxes him out with her soft purrs. Petting him does not ease her frown.

Say’ri wraps an arm around her shoulders. “His diminutive mind is a two-sided coin,” she says. “He forgives us on our worst days and flees from our shadows.”

It does not seem to help. There isn’t any greater logic to the situation that she can find, so she only gives Tiki a squeeze.

“He does not understand it is my shadow.”

“Exactly,” Say’ri says, expecting this to be reassuring. It deepens the lines in Tiki’s brow.

“Did you know that for a time, I tried to turn away the villager’s offerings?”

The change of topic catches Say’ri off guard like a blade’s feint. “Why would you do that?”

“Because they are not gifts, given for a friend’s happiness. They are bribes to Naga, meant to provide hope for their salvation.”

Say’ri chews the inside of her mouth along an area that will not give the motion away. “Even if that is the case, would spurning them not squash that hope?”

“I soon found that to be the case. Yet it is a futile hope. I will do all I can to save them, yes, but because I love them, not because of their offerings. Even a cute and furry one.” She scratches under Apple’s chin, and Apple flops onto his side, presenting half of his belly. “Every scrap that Apple presents us with is out of sheer affection. I suppose it is silly, attaching something so sentimental to an animal. Most people only know me as a divine dragon, and Apple only knows me as human. It overwhelmed me for a moment, that’s all.”

Say’ri watches Tiki rub Apple’s stomach, earning paws clasped around her hand for the effort. Contemplating Tiki’s words only presents her with an ache she can’t describe. She wishes she could paint a hundred portraits, ones that Tiki does not have to model for—moments that capture her from every angle, every expression, every form that Say’ri has striven to see.

A hundred thousand words would be needed to match the worth of that, and Say’ri is sorely unequipped to provide them. Yet, she must try.

“Even though I walked at your side, I used to be guilty of not understanding you.” Say’ri swallows. “Now I wish to know all of you, Tiki. It is your soul that is unwaveringly kind, no matter the shape of the vessel.”

After a moment, Tiki withdraws from their pet to nestle against her, finding a space in the crook of her neck. “Thank you, Say’ri. Your love is the greatest gift I could receive.”

Apple’s meow of protest draws laughter from them both.


End file.
